Master of Lust-Chapter 228: Rick and Jemimah getting to know each other
Chapter - 228
"And he says there's nothing going on between them," Rick muttered under his breath, his smirk faltering as he processed the disturbing scene unfolding before him. To see his own father in such a state, it was sickening.
"You old manther," Rick muttered, a mix of disgust and disbelief coloring his words as he struggled to come to terms with what he was witnessing.
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The notorious system was at play again. But Rick didn't care about the notification right now.
He had killed a few guys, watched a bunch of gruesome sights, but right now, Rick's stomach churned violently as he stumbled backward from the bathroom, his mind reeling from the disturbing sight he had just witnessed. It was like stumbling into a scene from a twisted porn scene, starring none other than his own father.
The image of his father's shameless actions replayed in his mind like a grotesque loop, each moment more horrifying than the last.
He needed to escape, to put as much distance as possible between himself and that sickening scene. Without a second thought, Rick turned on his heel and practically sprinted down the stairs, his heart hammering in his chest like a jackhammer against pavement.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Rick came to an abrupt halt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to compose himself. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed his father's number.
"Dad!" he called out, his voice echoing off the walls with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation.
Upstairs, his father froze, his heart plummeting to the pit of his stomach at the sound of Rick's voice. Panic surged through him like a tidal wave, and in his haste to conceal his indiscretion, he dropped the black panty in a frantic rush, his pulse thundering in his ears.
His eyes darted to the door, his mind racing with the need to escape before Rick discovered the truth. With a swift movement, he scooped up the panty and Jemimah's discarded bra, shoving them into the nearest drawer with trembling hands.
As he turned to leave, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. What if Rick had already seen too much? What if he knew the truth?
Meanwhile, upstairs, Jemimah's humming had abruptly ceased, the sound of flowing water halting in response to Rick's urgent call. She furrowed her brows in confusion, peering out of the bathroom door with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Rick?" she called out tentatively, her voice echoing softly in the hallway.
But there was no response, only the eerie silence of the empty house. Shrugging off her unease, Jemimah closed the door and returned to her bath, the warm water offering a fleeting sense of comfort in the midst of the chaos unfolding downstairs.
Downstairs, the air crackled with tension as Rick's father struggled to maintain his composure, his eyes darting nervously around the room as if searching for an escape route. His hands trembled ever so slightly, betraying the facade of calm he desperately tried to uphold.
He found Rick standing in the living room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression a mask of unreadable intensity. Rick's gaze bore into him with a steely determination, leaving his father feeling exposed and vulnerable.
"Rick," his father began, his voice faltering slightly, "I thought you were asleep."
Rick's eyes narrowed, suspicion dancing in their depths. "I was. But then I heard some noises and woke up. What were you doing up there, Dad?"
His father's mouth went dry as he searched frantically for a plausible explanation, his mind racing with half-formed excuses and desperate pleas for forgiveness. "Oh, I just... I thought I should check on Jemimah, see if she needed anything. But she was in the bathroom, so I came back down. You must have heard me moving around. Maybe I made more noise than I realized."
Rick's stare bore into him like a laser, unyielding in its intensity. "So you just wanted to check on her? Really? It sounded like more than just looking for something. You aren't hiding something from me, are you?"
His father's heart clenched in his chest, the weight of Rick's accusation bearing down on him like a crushing weight. He opened his mouth to respond, to offer some feeble attempt at an explanation, but before he could utter a word, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs.
Jemimah descended into the living room, her hair still damp from her bath, wrapped in a towel, a puzzled frown marring her features as she took in the scene before her. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to suffocate, and she felt a knot of apprehension forming in the pit of her stomach.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Rick's father forced a strained smile, though it failed to reach his eyes. "Nothing, Jemimah. Just a little misunderstanding. Rick thought he heard something and got spooked, that's all."
Jemimah glanced between Rick and his father, her brow furrowed with confusion. "Are you sure? You both seem... tense."
Rick, sensing her worry, gave her a reassuring nod. "Yeah, just some noises," he said, his voice calm but unsteady. "Thought maybe we had an intruder or something."
Her eyes widened slightly, a flash of fear crossing her face. "An intruder? Are you sure everything's okay?"
Before Rick could respond, their father interjected hastily. "Everything's fine," he said, his voice overly cheerful. "I checked around. There's nothing to worry about. We should all just go back to sleep."
Jemimah, still clutching her towel tightly around her, looked uncertain. The tension in the room was palpable, an invisible force pressing down on all of them. "Alright," she said slowly, her voice laced with doubt. "If you say so."
"Perfect," their father said, clapping his hands together a bit too loudly and forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Good, then. Let's all get back to bed. It's late. I am way too tired."
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With that, he turned and headed toward his bedroom, his steps quick and anxious. He didn't look back, his retreat a desperate attempt to avoid further questioning. Rick watched him go, there was no opportunity to spill the beans, no chance to stop him without causing a scene.
As their father's footsteps faded into the distance, a heavy silence settled between Rick and Jemimah. She turned to him, her concern etched deeply into her features.
"Rick, what really happened?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "You look... I don't know how to say it, but you seem really..."
Rick forced a smile, though it felt like his face might crack from the effort. "It's nothing, Jemimah. Maybe I was just imagining things. You know how it is when you wake up suddenly and everything feels off."
She frowned, unconvinced. "Are you sure? You don't seem like yourself."
Rick sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration and fatigue. "Honestly, I don't know what I saw. It was dark, I was half asleep. Maybe I overreacted."
Jemimah studied his face, searching for any hint of the truth he might be hiding. "You know you can tell me anything, right? If something's bothering you, we should talk about it."
Rick nodded, appreciating her concern but feeling the weight of the secret pressing down on him. "I know. Thanks, Jemimah. But really, it's late. We should both try to get some sleep."
She hesitated, clearly torn between pressing him for more information and respecting his apparent need for space. "Okay," she said finally, her voice soft. "But if you need to talk, I'm here."
Rick gave her a genuine smile this time, touched by her offer. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Jemimah nodded and started to turn away, but paused. "Hey, do you think it's possible someone might actually be lurking around? Should we double-check the locks or something?"
Rick shook his head, trying to reassure her. "Dad said he checked everything."
Rick sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the lingering unease. "Yeah, I'm sure."
Jemimah's concerned expression softened into a smile. "Then it's all good."
"Yeah, let's not worry about it," Rick suggested, his mind already wandering to the idea of unwinding with a drink. "How about we have a drink? Help us both relax."
Jemimah raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking down to her towel-clad body. "A drink? Now?" she mused, glancing at the clock. "Well, it's not too late."
"And to be honest, I was thinking of getting myself a drink. But there is none at home. We will have to go..." Jemimah trailed off with a sigh, already resigning herself to the idea of a drinkless evening.
"Oh you don't really have to worry about it." Rick smirked mischievously as he pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing two beer cans nestled in his palm.
Jemimah's eyes widened in surprise. "Huh? Where did you get these from?" She reached out and snatched the cans from Rick's hand, her face a mix of confusion and amusement. "What sort of magic is this?"
Rick chuckled, feeling the tension in his chest ease slightly for the first time that night. "Hehehe... Impressed?"
Jemimah shook her head in amazement, a smile spreading across her face. "Well, consider me thoroughly impressed," she admitted, her disbelief giving way to excitement. "But I still can't believe you pulled this off."
Rick shrugged nonchalantly. "Let's just say I have my sources. Now, why don't you go get changed first? I'll see if I can rustle up something for us to eat."
Jemimah looked down at herself, taking in the sight of her white towel wrapped snugly around her body. "Changed?" she echoed, a teasing note in her voice. "Aren't I already dressed?" She twirled playfully in front of Rick, the towel flaring out slightly.
"Or you are getting different thoughts?"
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